


If I must change, I'll do so with you

by floofman



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Conversations, Blow Jobs, Cock Warming, Light Angst, M/M, One Shot, Pre-Relationship, alex is tired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:35:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24884689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floofman/pseuds/floofman
Summary: Alex and Thomas have a weekly Thursday routine. Nothing lasts forever, but that's not always bad.
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/Thomas Jefferson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 101
Collections: Quote Prompt Memes





	If I must change, I'll do so with you

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [Know_It_All_Hermione](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Know_It_All_Hermione/pseuds/Know_It_All_Hermione) in the [quoteonlyprompts](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/quoteonlyprompts) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> "You're still here....and you're making pancakes?"

On Thursdays, Alex stays with Thomas. They have a little agreement of sorts, where Alex stops by with take-out and Thomas throws something on the TV and they eat and ignore each other and just pretend that the half-hour dinner stops at dinner. 

But when they’re done and Thomas collects both their trash and Alex zips into the bathroom, the mood takes on a heavy tone. Thomas keeps himself busy in the kitchen wiping down a pristine countertop or sweeping an immaculate floor. Alex washes up and ignores his speeding heart as he pulls down his boxers.

This Thursday was no different. Or rather, it shouldn’t have been. Alex stopped by a new taco shop on his way to Thomas’ apartment and they ate in silence as some sitcom played in the background. The generous use of laugh tracks always grated on Alex’s nerves. 

Thomas took the trash out like he always did. Alex tucked himself in the bathroom like he always did. But looking at himself in the mirror, Alex felt like something was different. There was a nagging feeling in his chest, not the usual anxious heart-pounding that always followed him up the elevator. Not the constant shake in his hands that needed calming, that this whole thing was fucking for. If he had been cured or relieved, he would have liked to know before setting foot in that asshole’s home. Or just left in the dark. 

Alex swung the door open and spotted Thomas on the couch, fully clothed as always. He was on his phone, as always, texting or emailing or whatever the fuck he thought needed finishing before they did their thing. 

Alex walked into the living room, sweaty hands pressed to his cold thighs, and cleared his throat. 

Thomas took a moment. 

Then, without looking up, he snapped at Alex and gestured for him to kneel in front of him. As always.

Alex figured today might just be an off day and that it would be easier to go about their usual routine as if nothing was wrong. He might just be stressed about that new article he had to write or the broken plumbing in his kitchen sink. Yeah, that must have been it, a clogged sink was throwing him off his game. Definitely. 

So he lowered himself gingerly on his knees, the plush rug a familiar anchor. Alex leaned over and gently plucked Thomas’ belt buckle undone and lowered his fly. And as he lowered his head on the half-hard cock, once again a familiar weight on his tongue, he felt a ghost of a hand brush against his knotted hair and he froze. But as soon as he noticed it the hand vanished and Alex chalked it up to his imagination, something he could dream up in a different life. 

So he continued, working Thomas up. After a moment of diligently sucking, the cloud of confusion dissipated into a background buzz. He sucked Thomas to completion, obediently swallowing the bitterness, and stayed there, as he always did, not exactly resting his head on the inside of Thomas’ thigh, his dick warm in his mouth. Alex sat there, eyes closed and mind pleasantly and finally empty, a welcome break after the hectic and loud week. As always.

But what didn’t always happen, in fact, it  _ never had happened _ , was the curious hand that barely carded its fingers through the loose strands of Alex’s hair. Alex almost shot up in alarm, but the relaxing headspace didn’t leave room for that kind of stress. Later he would worry about what this meant and what was different and what he and Thomas were, but for now, his mouth pleasantly full and his mind gloriously quiet, he welcomed the warm hand. And they sat like that for hours. 

Alex usually woke up on the couch, and while Thomas never explained it to him and he was always fuzzy on the details, he assumed that Thomas would leave and he’d grab the blanket under the coffee table. What Alex was sure of was that Thomas was never there in the morning. At first, he thought it was weird; this was his home. But he figured either Thomas didn’t want to deal with the aftermath --and they never did-- or he had some business in the morning. Alex was used to grabbing his shit, sometimes risking a quick shower, and leaving as soon as possible. He never knew when Thomas got home and he had no interest in finding out. 

So imagine his surprise when he woke up, groggily, to the smell of chocolate chips. 

Alex darted off the couch, the quiet from last night replaced with a million things he needed to get done along with a resounding  _ what the fuck?? _

Alex was suddenly very aware of how naked he was, but before he had a chance to sneak into the bathroom where he always left his clothes, Thomas turned around from the stovetop, humming some jolly tune as if this was all so very ordinary, and spotted Alex.

“Oh, you’re awake,” he said with raised eyebrows. “Good morning.”

Alex, for once, was speechless. 

Thomas raised a plate of chocolate chip pancakes and bacon. “Breakfast?”

And it was as if the absurdity of it all just hit him and he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. 

“You’re still here. And you’re making pancakes.” 

Thomas rolled his eyes.

“You’re never here! And why are you making breakfast?”

“It’s my house, I can do whatever I want,” he grumbled, giving up on the offer and instead decided to set the table that Alex has never sat at, not once in his months of coming here. “Coffee?”

Alex didn’t know what to say, so he said yes. Coffee would wake him up. 

He nervously pulled out a chair and sat down. The cool wood on his ass reminded him that he was in fact naked, but Thomas came over with a pot of coffee and didn’t even look twice so Alex thought it best if he stayed put. 

He looked at the breakfast before him. Three pancakes stacked with a generous amount of semi-melted chocolate chips dotting the plain. A side of crispy bacon, the delicious smell wafting and mingling with the chocolate. A cup of coffee, the mug handle chipped and the university logo faded. And in the middle of the table, between him and Thomas, was a bowl of fruit. 

Thomas was already digging in. His phone was set next to him, displaying an article or the morning news, and Alex clung on that anchor of familiarity. This was all too. . . _ domestic _ and he didn’t know what to say or do. 

So Alex picked up the fork and knife and cut up some pancake, shoving it into his mouth dry and chewed. He supposed it was good, but he was preoccupied with how fucking not normal this all was. 

“You doing anything later today?” Thomas asked without looking up from his phone. Alex swallowed hard, his throat protesting at the too-big bite, and hurried to answer. 

“Um, no, not really. I have a meeting after lunch and I have to call Senator Burr about his vote. And my kitchen sink is clogged so I should probably get someone to fix that, or just look it up on Youtube and figure it out myself in case it happens again. It’s a real hassle I’ve heard but it’s always good to--”

“Alex.” Thomas cut him off and looked straight at him. Alex could feel himself flush, never having felt this vulnerable in all the time he’s come over. 

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to have dinner with me tonight?”

Alex held his breath. “It’s not Thursday.”

Thomas groaned and Alex couldn’t figure out what to do with his hands. “You’re really gonna make me say it. Fine.” He fixed Alex with a fake smile and gritted out, “Do you want to go out with me? Specifically tonight. For dinner. I can make reservations.”

Alex frowned. “Why the hell now? What’s changed?”

It was Thomas’ turn to look flustered. “I don’t know. It just felt like the next step.”

Alex scoffed. “The next step after what? Eight months of just sucking your dick and never mentioning it ever? Jesus, Thomas, we don’t even  _ talk  _ to each other.”

Thomas set his utensils down and looked to the side. “I know that! Something just changed and I don’t know what it is. So do you want to have dinner with me or not?”

Alex sat stunned. He supposed that was the real question, that addressing the issue that’s been going on for the better part of the year was only dodging the question. What surprised him more than anything was that the idea of sitting with Thomas in a nice restaurant did not immediately revolt him. In fact, it almost seemed nice. 

But the whole point of this was familiarity and routine, something Alex could fall back on no matter what had happened in the week or between him and Thomas. Something to ground him, to reset his brain and give him at least one night of decent sleep. Changing that would leave him with nothing. What would happen if he said no? Would they continue this? Could they?

And what happened if he said yes?

Thomas checked his watch and swore under his breath. He glanced at Alex for a second too long to be comfortable and heaved a long sigh. “Think about it. Give me a call. I gotta go.”

Alex watched Thomas throw on his suit jacket and grab a briefcase by the door and left. Like always. 

Alex sat back down in his chair and stared at the plates of unfinished breakfast. He felt bad for leaving the meal untouched, sans the bite he choked down, but he was never much of a breakfast kind of guy. He also didn’t know what to do, so he elected to clean the kitchen up a little. He scraped the food in the trash, stole a strip of bacon, and wiped down the table. He considered doing the dishes but he figured he wasn’t Thomas’ housemaid so he just let them soak. Then he took a quick shower, threw on his clothes, and walked to work with Thomas’ question at the back of his mind like an overhanging cloud, one that could spill rejuvenating rain or flashes of lightning and hail. 

It was after his lunch meeting, not even 24 hours after their session, did Alex decide that he hated being this wound up all the time, that it left him on edge and gave his opponents an edge. Without really thinking, because he did enough of that at his job and in his day life, he picked up the phone and called Thomas. The fucker never picked up, so he left a voice message. 

“Sure, I’ll stop by at seven.”


End file.
